


Praedyth Has Two Hands

by rolameny



Series: Destiny fics [6]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Established Relationship, Light Bondage, M/M, Off-label uses for Nightstalker tethers, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 16:24:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17563946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rolameny/pseuds/rolameny
Summary: "Caught you," Pahanin says.The three of them work out a new trick.





	Praedyth Has Two Hands

**2.**

Sparring with Kabr is always a thrill. Praedyth has his dawnblade out, a flyssa dripping fire along every line of its engravings, and Kabr has a heavy spear so bright with arc energy it nearly hurts to look at.

They're evenly matched with firearms, but Kabr's got size and strength on Praedyth, and in a Light-weapons-only match, that tells. Praedyth's only possible strategy is to get in close under his guard and then out again before Kabr can recover and deal him a blow he can't take.

The ground under them is scorched and torn up across the whole length of the field. They've been avoiding its edges, lined with trees tall enough they probably date from the golden age; neither one of them wants to stop to put out a fire.

Praedyth feints a stumble and Kabr falls for it — he brings his spear down and Praedyth slides under it, keeping it off his back with the length of his sword. He's got a condensed ball of solar Light in his off hand and he slams it into Kabr's chest. Kabr falls back half a step and his spear goes dark for a moment, and it's enough time for Praedyth to scramble away again out of reach.

Praedyth takes a second to look around. Pahanin isn't anywhere that Praedyth can see, but that doesn't mean he's not here.

Kabr tosses a grenade of his own at Praedyth. Praedyth slaps it out of the way with his sword, but the blade conducts electricity down to him, shocking him. His hand convulses on the grip.

He hears a high whistling and rolls to the side on instinct, which means that instead of pinning him through the meat of his shoulder, Kabr's spear cuts a path across his arm, tearing through muscle and sleeve and drawing a hot streak of blood on its way. More of the arc Light snaps through him, hitting the metal of his warlock's bond and making it light up in a bright band of pain around his bicep.

Praedyth shakes his head. He reverses his grip on his dawnblade and slams it into the ground. The lioness' head carved into the hilt lights up pure plasma white, and fire spills away from the sword to create a circle of heat. Praedyth kneels in it, the solar Light knitting up his wound and clearing his vision. Kabr comes charging into the circle — bad idea. His armour's burning clear to the knee before he can get within reach of Praedyth.

Praedyth yanks his blade back out of the ground and gathers his Light to him before he rolls forward, right between Kabr's legs. He manifests a set of wings with his leftover Light for just a second, long enough to get away and to send a wave of fire at Kabr. It tags his thigh, where Praedyth knows there's a gap in his plating; Kabr barely falters before summoning his spear again. Praedyth dismisses the wings and sinks back to the ground. 

He needs to conserve his energy. It's going to be a long fight.

**4.**

They bear him to the ground, the two of them, Pahanin behind and Kabr in front. Praedyth's entire world is taken up with Pahanin's cool sly Light smothering his own.

Kabr kneels, still crackling all over with his own Light, and lays a hand against Praedyth's chest. His hand should feel like brushing up a powered fence, but it's muted, barely more than the prickle of static electricity, till even that drains away to feed the rope of Light around his neck.

"Good fight," Pahanin whispers, above him. Praedyth is slumped back against him, half in his lap, and Pahanin tucks his head into the crook of Praedyth's shoulder.

His hands skate across Praedyth's neck and down. Light trails them, wrapped around his long fingers, and it twists itself around Praedyth. The cool feeling extends, crossing and wrapping over itself in careful patterns, till the last warmth of Praedyth's Light leaves his fingertips, the final spark of solar heat chased away and with it any of Praedyth's sense of his own Light. The cords skirt Kabr's hand, still pressing Praedyth back into Pahanin.

It feels like being on a boat in a storm, reaching for solid ground that isn't there. He thinks he trembles.

"Should you have done that over the armour?" Kabr's voice is muffled. Praedyth clutches at his knee. The armour on it is hot, sooty.

"Don't you worry. I have a _plan_ ," Pahanin says. He skims a hand all the way back up to Praedyth's throat — and how can he feel that so clearly, through his armour, through the suppression — and shifts the collar of Praedyth's coat to flip the emergency release on his helmet. Kabr lifts it off.

Pahanin isn't wearing any armour at all. His bare hands catch against Praedyth's jaw. Praedyth is still shaking with exertion, dark curling hair matted down with sweat, mouth open to pant.

"Look at you." Pahanin's words rumble through Praedyth where Pahanin's pressed up to his jaw.

Praedyth has to close his eyes. They open again at the familiar sound of Kabr's own helmet latch. Kabr pulls it off, then follows up with his gloves. He sets them carefully in the upturned bowl of his helmet and gathers up Praedyth's hands in his own. His skin is a lighter brown than Praedyth's, his hands bigger, nails blunt. Praedyth's not a small man, but Kabr swamps him.

"Just look at you," Kabr echoes. His tone is intense. Nearly reverent.

He pulls Praedyth's gloves off one at a time. When he finishes with the first he turns Praedyth's hand over to press a kiss first to the palm and then the wrist.

Praedyth's breath catches in his throat. He can feel Pahanin shifting behind him.

Kabr strips him slowly, following Pahanin's hands. Pahanin pulls the cords of Light aside for them, sometimes letting one dissipate but always replacing it with two more. Praedyth loses his boots, his socks, his bond. Pahanin’s hands leave Praedyth, and Praedyth trembles. Pahanin smooths a hand over his belly, soothing him as Kabr leans to the side and drags a pack forward from between the roots of a huge old pine.

He pulls a blanket out of it and spreads it out on the ground, a few feet further in among the trees, where the ground hasn't been torn up and where the light is patchy with shade.

He comes back. With Praedyth dizzy on the ground like this, he looks as tall as one of the trees around them.

Kabr kneels. "Will the bonds disappear if you stop touching him?"

Pahanin tucks his chin deeper into Praedyth's shoulder. His short hair prickles at Praedyth's jaw. "No, but I don't want to."

It takes Praedyth a moment to understand what happens then — Kabr picks them both up, easy as anything, with Praedyth pressed between the two of them.

Kabr sets them down on the blanket. He kneels over them to pull at the snaps on Praedyth's robe. He eases Praedyth out of it, one arm then the other then the whole thing set carefully to the side, and reaches for the hem of the long black shirt Praedyth always wears under his armour.

Praedyth clears his throat. "Tear it," he says, and it comes out low and hoarse.

Kabr stops with his thumbs hooked under the edge of the shirt. "Are you sure?"

Praedyth nods, his head pushing against Pahanin's shoulder. "I want you to."

The heavy fabric shreds in Kabr's hands like paper. Praedyth wishes Kabr had taken off more than just his gloves.

Kabr lays both his hands down on Praedyth's chest, fingers spread and spanning its whole width. He bends down and kisses the skin in the gaps between his fingers in dry, solicitous little brushes: his sternum, his third rib, his nipple.

The cords pulse bright as Praedyth struggles, trying to heave himself up closer to Kabr.

"Don't worry," Pahanin says, into the tangle of Praedyth's hair by his ear. "We've got you."

Together they get Praedyth the rest of the way nude. Kabr draws back again to start pulling off his own armour, stacking it carefully at the edge of the blanket. Pahanin brushes a thumb idly over Praedyth's skin, back and forth against his collarbone.

Praedyth's sense of Light is gone and his head feels like it's been wrapped in cotton, but the nerves in his skin are firing double-time to make up for it. The cords wrapped around him have a physical weight, and Pahanin keeps brushing the one wrapped around his neck. Not with any pressure, not pushing down at all, but in a way that makes Pahanin continually aware of its presence. He tips his head back, offering his throat to Pahanin above him.

Pahanin moves his whole hand up to cover Praedyth's throat. His hand is warm, the cord a cool stripe beneath it. Praedyth closes his eyes, imagining he can feel every ridge of Pahanin's fingerprints.

Something nudges his knee. It's Kabr, undressed, plucking at one of the cords casting violet light against both of them.

Kabr lays a deliberate fingertip on Praedyth's thigh, in the diamond-shaped negative space between two cords, and sends a flicker of arc charge through it into Praedyth.

It's the quickest flare of sensation before the suppression magic absorbs it, but Praedyth's nerves keep tingling, expecting more. He twists his head to bury his face against Pahanin's neck.

Both Kabr and Pahanin make interested noises.

"Give him to me," Kabr says to Pahanin. "You're wearing too much."

Pahanin grumbles but complies, and Praedyth finds himself pressed front to front with Kabr. Kabr holds him with one hand on his back and the other on his thigh, and pulls him up (and up) for a kiss. Praedyth falls into it gratefully. Kissing Kabr is just as good as sparring with him on a regular day, and right now his lips are as sensitive as the rest of his skin.

Kabr is always gentle, conscious of his size and strength, and usually Praedyth would be pushing at him, demanding more, but now he sinks into the feeling, relaxing against the iron bars of Kabr's grip.

Then without warning, Kabr's two hands spark with Light, the sensation there and gone again in half a moment.

Praedyth jerks in Kabr's grip, his dick sliding up against Kabr's stomach.

Kabr does it again. And again, and again, till all of Praedyth's nerves are singing, and he can feel exactly where the cords wrap against him, cool stripes criss-crossing his overheated skin. Kabr deepens the kiss, taking the lead, and Praedyth lets him.

A third hand joins Kabr's on his back. Pahanin, standing behind him, finally naked too. Praedyth's sorry he missed it — Pahanin always puts on the best show.

But now he's between his two teammates, the crux of their attention and interest. He wouldn't trade this for anything.

Pahanin brushes at Praedyth's curls, pushing the mass of them off one shoulder. He leans in and says, past Praedyth to Kabr, "Hey. Watch this."

And he bites at Praedyth's shoulder just where it meets his neck, sharp and perfect. All Praedyth's muscles tense up; his toes curl, dragging at the blanket under them.

Kabr makes an interested noise. It rumbles through his chest and into Praedyth where they're pressed up close to one another. Praedyth has to break away from their kiss to pant, overwhelmed, shuddering.

"Praedyth. What do you want?" he speaks quietly. Just for Praedyth.

Praedyth's hands flex on Kabr's sides. He has to swallow before he can get any words out.

"You," he says. "Both of you. As much as you can."

Pahanin hooks his head over Praedyth's shoulder, putting pressure on the bite mark with his sharp chin. "Not as much as you can handle, P?"

Praedyth shakes his head against the steel beam of Kabr's collarbone. He lifts his head so the other two can hear him as clear as possible. "I want everything you can give me. I don't care if it's too much. I just want you."

Kabr's grip tightens on Praedyth. Pahanin whistles a low note and reaches to grasp Praedyth's head through his hair, cradling it.

"That's just about the hottest thing you've ever said," Pahanin says.

Kabr slides a hand under a set of cords on Praedyth's thigh, high up near his hip. He triggers a burst of arc Light with the full surface of his broad hand. The noise Praedyth makes in response is loud and unobstructed.

"We'll give you everything you want," Kabr promises.

**3.**

They circle. The ground smokes under them, and Praedyth keeps getting shocked through his boots as he hits pockets of unreleased arc energy along the torn-up ground.

Kabr falls back, letting Praedyth go on the offensive, pulling the both of them back towards the trees at the clearing's edge. Pahanin's still nowhere to be seen. He should be perched on a branch somewhere, catcalling them both.

Kabr sends a spike of Light at him. Praedyth blocks it with a wall of fire. His helmet filters can't block out all the smell of char and ozone; they whine at him, popping errors up into his HUD. Smoke hangs in the wavering air. Visibility's gone to shit, and so's the footing. Praedyth is on edge, trying to keep track of everything. He's been using too much Light, he needs time to recover. But Kabr should be in a similar state.

Praedyth is breathing hard, chest heaving, but he keeps his flyssa in guard. Kabr is tiring too — they've been going for a while, and Kabr's hauling around a lot more weight in armour and muscle mass than Praedyth is.

Kabr takes a step back, readying his spear for another throw. There's a rock poking up out of the uneven ground and Kabr stumbles as it shifts under him. He's open. Praedyth goes in for the kill, flyssa raised.

Kabr recovers too fast. It was a feint — Praedyth scrambles to get clear, his solar wings bursting from his back — he spreads them, legs tense to push him up high into the air.

He's not fast enough. Kabr lashes out with his spear and trips him backwards, a sharp blow to his ankles that hurts like hell even through his heavy boots. Praedyth doesn't fall onto the ground like he expects — instead he falls against something soft and cool, something invisible. An arm snakes around his shoulder from underneath. Praedyth jerks against it. It's not enough.

A vivid purple loop of Light catches around his neck. Praedyth's sense of Light and his vision go dim in a moment, void leeching away his solar heat.

Dimly, in front of him, he can see Kabr dismissing his weapon.

"Caught you," Pahanin says in his ear.

**5.**

Praedyth's leg kicks out without meaning to, catching Kabr on the shoulder. Kabr picks up his leg by the ankle and holds it out of the way. He keeps driving his hips forward, pushing deeper. Praedyth's shoulder blades dig into the blanket under him, his lower half tilted up, supported by Kabr in front of him, Pahanin behind.

Praedyth pants out, "Pahanin. Pahanin. I need — help."

He's too close to coming. He doesn't want this to end yet — he wants to stay here, between the two of them, forever. Or at least as long as physically possible.

"I got you," says Pahanin. He shuffles over, pressing a kiss to Praedyth's shoulder along the way. He splays his long-fingered hand out on Praedyth's belly right above his groin, and summons up another cord of void. It weaves itself into existence from filaments of Light, and snakes down to wrap itself around the base of Praedyth's cock and then his balls.

Praedyth's hands convulse in Kabr's steady grip.

"Good? Bad? Too much?" Pahanin sounds concerned.

"Too much — but good," Praedyth says, and bites his lip.

They're so much, the two of them. It's like they don't know, the casual way they always act. Pahanin is quick, clever, sharp as his favourite knife. Kabr is strong, unshakable, a titan to rival all the heroes of the dark ages. Praedyth marvels every day that the three of them fit together like this.

It's hard to make words like this, head foggy with the void suppression and from all the sensation, but Kabr and Pahanin know what he wants anyway. Pahanin leans forward for an upside-down kiss and then Kabr rolls his hips and leaves Praedyth gasping into Pahanin's mouth, conveniently right there.

"I want you," Praedyth mumbles into the corner of Pahanin's mouth, his vowels jumping all over the place as Kabr moves.

Kabr and Pahanin exchange a look over Praedyth's head. Kabr bends further down to put his mouth close to Praedyth's ear.

"Will you be alright if we move you?"

Praedyth tilts his head so it rests against Kabr's for just a moment. He nods.

Kabr and Pahanin work together to shift him to his hands and knees. Praedyth clutches the blanket as Kabr slides out to move him. Pahanin soothes him through it, murmuring quietly to him.

They set themselves up with Kabr kneeling behind him and Pahanin in front. In the field sometimes Kabr and Pahanin can butt heads, disagreeing on aims, tactics, the best way to strip a rifle for parts, but when they have the same goal they can work together like they're a pair of mind readers. Praedyth's often in the middle helping them get to that point, but usually it's not in such a literal way.

Pahanin cards his fingers through Praedyth's hair, pushing it off his forehead. "You good?"

Praedyth nods. He dips his head down to lick Pahanin's dick, flushed dark and straining against his stomach. 

The long muscles in Pahanin's thighs jump. Like he's trying not to sway forward yet. Praedyth grins and does it again.

Kabr pulls him back, hands on his waist. He can't resist Kabr's strength, and he wouldn't want to. He goes. Kabr nudges at him with his dick, working Praedyth open again, the new angle making Praedyth feel the weight of him in a different way entirely.

Praedyth's jaw hangs open. He pants, elbows locked, keeping him braced. Pahanin brushes at his jaw and trades a look with Kabr, then takes his dick in his other hand to guide it carefully to Praedyth's mouth.

Praedyth is about to burst, his skin is going to burst into flames, and he can't stand this slowness. He extends his neck to take in as much of Pahanin as he can, and when he finally gets Pahanin into his mouth, he presses his tongue flat and broad to the underside of Pahanin's dickhead just the way he likes it, just the way that always makes Pahanin thrust involuntarily.

Pahanin does. His cock fills Praedyth's mouth. The soft skin brushing past his lips and nose, the smell and taste, the weight of him — it's perfect. 

Kabr shifts his grip on Praedyth's waist and slams home. Praedyth jerks forward. It forces Pahanin's dick deeper, down into his throat.

Pahanin says something above him, Praedyth can't make it out, it doesn't matter. Kabr pulls back and does it again. He sets up a hard rhythm, pushing Praedyth towards Pahanin on every thrust. Pahanin thrusts forward every time to receive him, and that sends Praedyth back towards Kabr. 

They're in sync, the rhythm perfect, keeping Praedyth trapped between them. It's exactly what he wants, exactly where he always wants to be. Kabr's hands stay on his waist, caging him in, and Pahanin's hands skitter all over him, stroking his cheek, his back, his arms. The two of them, towering over him, even block out most of the light that isn't coming from the cords trussing Praedyth up. They're backlit, almost glowing.

Pahanin hooks a finger under the tether cord at Praedyth's neck. It has more give for him than it does for Praedyth or Kabr, responding to his intentions.

Pahanin takes that cord and, in time with the rhythm, pulls. Helpless, Praedyth follows, the cord tight and cool against the back of his neck. It's like a collar, and Pahanin's holding the leash. It pulls him further in towards Pahanin, pressing his dick even further down till Praedyth's nose is pressed up right against Pahanin's groin.

Kabr's grip tightens. He pulls Praedyth back to meet another thrust. Pahanin doesn't let go of the cord — it keeps Praedyth stretched between the two of them. It's perfect.

Kabr slams into him. Pahanin pulls at him. There isn't a part of him that isn't buzzing, dizzy, straining for more. The force brings tears to the corners of his eyes, and when Pahanin sees them, he sets his free hand to Praedyth's jaw, rubbing them away with his thumb.

Praedyth shudders at the tenderness in that action, even as Kabr and Pahanin bring all their force to bear on him.

Kabr's hands, still at his waist, crackle with Light. Arc charge pulses over his skin to be absorbed by the cords, so close to Praedyth's dick, not close enough. It makes him clench down on Kabr, his muscles all tensing in fluttering waves.

Kabr edges one hand further down around his waist even as he keeps thrusting. He murmurs something to Pahanin, who nods — there isn't anything in Praedyth's ears right now other than the roar of his own blood through his veins, but he can _feel_ the motion in Pahanin above him.

Praedyth doesn't know how, but the two of them start moving with even more force, Kabr snapping his hips hard enough to sting against the back of Praedyth's thighs, Pahanin dragging hard on the collar around Praedyth's neck. 

Kabr's massive hand envelops Praedyth's entire dick. It's still tingling with the remnants of his last burst of Light, and it makes Praedyth's dick jerk even with the rings snug against his base.

Pahanin brushes a hand against his jaw. He does it again, and again, till Praedyth looks up at him, as much as he can.

The words come through the fog in his mind. "You ready?"

Pahanin's trembling like a horse after a hard run. His thighs are so tense there's no way he's getting out of this without cramps. He _wants_ to come, needs it as much as he's ever needed anything. He nods.

Pahanin's dick is still halfway down his throat. Pahanin jolts, and Kabr laughs.

"Come on, sweetheart," Kabr says, a catch in his voice. Pahanin adds, "C'mon. For us."

The hand around his dick tightens and, just as Praedyth registers the disappearance of the bands of void around it, Kabr flushes the full surface of his hand with arc energy, pulsing Light through his dick from its root all the way to the tip.

Praedyth's vision goes white.

**1.**

"I don't know," says Kabr, looking at Pahanin's hands. "It sounds dangerous."

"Everything we do is dangerous!" Pahanin says, the cat's-cradle of void Light in his hands lighting up the ship's cockpit.

Kabr's mouth twists dubiously.

"It's good practice for fine control," Pahanin goes on. "And think of the _team-bonding_ potential."

Kabr muffles a snort. "What do you think, Praedyth?"

The two of them twist to face him sitting between them in the pilot's seat. Praedyth, staring fixedly at that tangle of Light that Pahanin was holding so confidently, can't get himself to form words. His cheeks are hot enough to smelt iron. His throat is dry.

Kabr and Pahanin exchange a look. "Well, let me feel it first," Kabr says, and holds out his arm. It dangles right under Praedyth's nose.

Pahanin loops his string around Kabr's wrist. It looks like a delicate bracelet, something strung together with lumino-filament that would have a discreet battery pack at the clasp. Praedyth could probably rig up something just like it given ten minutes with his supply locker and toolkit.

Kabr jerks against the string of Light. His hand — and Pahanin's — stay where they are. The bracelet of Light pulses brighter.

"I've modulated the frequency," Pahanin says. "Won't do anything permanent."

Kabr stares down at it. Praedyth's ears go hot.

"As long as you're careful."

Pahanin unravels the bracelet, letting its Light dissipate, and Kabr flexes his hand, sparking an arc charge across his knuckles. It pops fitfully before growing to its usual cool blue tone.

Kabr undoes his safety harness to face Praedyth fully. Praedyth pushes a few switches, completely pointlessly. The auto knows its way home.

"We need to hear a yes before we do anything," Kabr says, his rumbling voice as soft as he ever got.

Praedyth opens his mouth. Nothing comes out. He looks to the left, where Kabr sits, a solid wall, and at Pahanin on his right, restraining excitement under his usual casual sprawl. He clears his throat and tries again. "Yes," he says. "Yes. Please."

Pahanin lays his hand over Praedyth's on the control, cool where Praedyth is burning up.

His smile is as welcome and dizzying as an Earthrise seen from Luna.

"This will be great," he says. "Don't you worry about a thing."

"We've got you," Kabr adds. His hand is a welcome weight on Praedyth's shoulder, keeping him there.

**6.**

Pahanin draws back, cradling Praedyth's jaw, supporting him. Behind him, Kabr rubs at his back, the side of his thumb dragging against the knobs of Praedyth's spine. He pulls out. Praedyth falls forward onto Pahanin, who catches him and pulls him down on top of him. Kabr knee-walks up the blanket and settles himself down next to them. He reaches out to set a palm against Praedyth's shoulder blade.

Praedyth is shivery, sweat cooling on his skin, all his muscles trembling like plucked wires. Kabr runs that hand up and down his back, again and again, and Pahanin keeps his arms wrapped around Praedyth, stretching his neck up to drop kisses all over his face.

Pahanin's got him all tangled up, arms around him, an ankle hooked around his leg. It grounds Praedyth, keeps him present as his breathing slows.

Kabr hums something, a tune Praedyth doesn't know. It helps Praedyth relax, helps him return to them.

"Might be time for these to come off," Pahanin says, quiet, plucking at the cord wrapped around Praedyth's arm where his bond would usually sit.

Part of Praedyth wants to say, _no, leave them on_ , part of him wants to say _let's go again_ , part of him wants to say _let's just stay here forever_.

He nods anyway. They can do this again sometime — they can do anything later. They could probably make it all the way under the moon and back as long as they were together, he thinks, loopy.

The cords come off Praedyth one at a time, letting his sense of Light return slowly. He leans back against Kabr, who shifts his grip to hold him more firmly. Praedyth blinks to clear his vision. His skin goes warm then cool again in stripes as the cords leave, some of them unwinding first into filaments and then dissipating back into the air, and some of them slithering towards Pahanin's hands, laid palm-up on Praedyth's ribcage.

There are void cords wrapped around Pahanin's fingers, tangling in his palms. A few of them move on what must be their own volition, because Pahanin's face goes first shocked and then delighted in a way he's never been able to fake.

Praedyth turns to look at Kabr. His throat hurts. All his muscles ache. There are bite marks indented in his skin from his jaw to his wrists. Kabr, tired and smiling and long hair mussed, just says, "Next time."

Praedyth flops an arm out onto Pahanin. The tangle of Light pops out of existence like a soap bubble, and Pahanin grins at them sheepishly. Kabr leans to his side to grab the edge of the blanket and pulls it over all three of them. Without the suppression muffling him, Praedyth can see the light filtering through the pines above them in full colour, all amber and jade. Kabr and Praedyth are both draped over him, warm and heavy and dappled with the light.

There's nowhere he'd rather be.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! And thanks to Fish and Parisa for bullying me into actually using this title, and to Tanya for the proofreading. I couldn't do it without you, O beta reader mine.
> 
> (A [flyssa](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flyssa) is an Algerian Amazigh sword, because that's how I like to self-indulgently imagine Praedyth. More fic about him is in the works and will be finished hopefully, one day, some day.)


End file.
